


Running Up That Hill

by captainjunglegym



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Drabble, Gen, drabblyish, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-08
Updated: 2014-10-08
Packaged: 2018-02-20 10:12:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2424941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainjunglegym/pseuds/captainjunglegym
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The infinity stone held by Loki's sceptre has the power to bring back memories. But at what cost for a mortal man.</p><p> </p><p>  <i>And if I only could,</i><br/><i>I'd make a deal with God,</i><br/><i>And I'd get him to swap our places</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Running Up That Hill

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to Sebstan. May he always be a dorky nerdlord.

—-

 

“Do you wanna know how it feels?”

 

Steve turned his head to the glass prison. The soldier was sat on the floor, his legs stretched in front of him, and he leaned on the front glass panel, angling himself to face Steve. His face was drawn and pale, his eyes unnaturally blue. His chapped lips were parted as he breathed out the question at Steve.

 

“What did you say?” Steve questioned, lamely, quietly.

 

The soldier tried to pull his face into a smile, “It doesn't hurt me.”

 

“I didn’t ask.” 

 

“You're mad at me,” the soldier lets his head rest against the glass with a soft thud, “Stevie.”

 

Steve let out a frustrated breath, “No…I-I’m not.”

 

“Mad at me for dying again.”

 

“You are not dying!” Steve’s shout echoed around the holding cell, his fists clenched firmly at his side. The silence that fell around them buzzed obnoxiously in Steve’s ears. 

 

He closed his eyes, “You're not dying.”

 

The soldier chuckled lightly, his shoulders rumbling, “You never did trust doctors.”

 

Outside the door, Steve could hear agents and doctors buzzing around. It was faint, but it was the only thing grounding him, making it real. He was afraid that if he stopped listening, he’d float away into nothing.

 

“Stevie before you-,” The soldier cut himself off, laughing out a sigh, “Before you blame yourself…I need you to know…I didn't do this for you.”

 

Steve crossed his arms, and nodded once, his eyes welling.

 

“You know that I would do anything, I’d fall off the earth for you Steve… But this is something I had to do for myself.”

 

The soldier smiled sadly and idly traced his flesh hand across the glass, leaving dirty marks from his cracked and bloodied skin, “You remember Mrs Evans who lived across the street? How she'd always leave out food for that stray cat- the grey one with gold eyes? You remember?

 

Steve’s voice wobbled, “I do.”

 

“Hmm,” the soldier hummed, “So do I.”

 

“Bucky-”

 

“-I thought,” the soldier interrupted, “I thought that if I remembered- then everything was gonna be okay. I thought that I'd feel like _him_ again,” he suddenly choked on a sob, “But I don't, Stevie, all these memories- they ain't mine. They're _his._ Barnes isn't coming back, Steve, I'm sorry, I tried to make everything okay again. 

 

“And now his memories are burning me from the outside in, and I’m going to die,” tears streaked down the soldier’s face.

 

Steve walked forward and sat leaning against the glass, opposite the soldier, “The doctors said that when you touched Loki’s sceptre you absorbed too much power for your body to handle, it’s affecting your cells…It's destroying you. It was one hell of a dumb move.”

 

The soldier snorted, “Yeah, I guess I learned that from you.”

 

“Are you scared?”

 

“Are you?”

 

Steve leant his head back on the glass and pulled his knees into his chest, “Yes. Very much.”

 

“Don’t be.” The soldier paused, “I've cheated death so many times. It was bound to catch up somehow…”

 

Silence draped over them again, as Steve was at a loss as to what to say. He'd fought so hard to find his friend, to bring him home. Bucky- the soldier, whatever- should be entitled to a good life. To a happy life.

 

His friend had suffered in a man made hell, while Steve had slept on without a care.

 

“I can hear that guilt from here,” The soldier smirked, the florescent lights of the cell making his skin translucent, “You stop that now, Steve… Theres no way to trade places, no way to change the past. What’s done is done.”

 

A rage suddenly rushed through Steve and he jumped up from the floor, the heels of his hands digging into his eyes, “How can you say that?! How can you be so fucking zen, you are _dying!”_

 

The soldier closed his eyes, “December 17th 1991”

 

“…What?”

 

“It was a tuesday, chilly but not…not cold. I had a mission, a level six operative. He and his wife were travelling down the west coast, back home I assume… back home to their son. There was no one else around, just them and the open road.” 

 

The soldier took a breath, “I shot out his right tire and the car spun off road into a tree. When I checked them, they were both still alive…and conscious. He begged me to let his wife live. That man, Howard Stark, who I'd been _friends_ with, he begged and begged. But I killed her first, snapped her neck in front of him. Then I smashed his head on the dash til his screams stopped.”

 

“That wasn’t-”

 

“Don’t you say that wasn’t me,” The soldier snapped, opening his eyes and locking his gaze on Steve, “I remember that as clear as day, just as much as I remember Mrs Evans, but it feels more _me._ I feel a thousand times more like the man who killed Stark than the man who worked twelve hours a day to pay for your meds. I've killed so many. Maybe it's my turn, maybe it's not unwelcome.”

 

“I don't care,” Steve said turning his back to the soldier, “I don't care. I don't want you to die- I don't want anyone to die. If only we'd stopped you! Just this _once_ I wanted everything to work out- just this fucking _once._ ”

 

The soldier scoffed, “Yeah well life ain't like that,” he smiled a little mischievously, “you…fucking punk.”

 

Steve spun round, “You're a fucking Jerk!”

 

The soldier barked out a laugh in spite of the wild anger that shone in Steve’s eyes. His shoulders juddered and he shook his head, mirth glinting in his eyes, “Still a little firecracker, eh?”

 

Steve looked to the floor, his face crumpling, all anger vacating his body just as soon as it arrived. His eyes misted and welled, tears spilling over faster than he could stop them.

 

“I don't want you to die, oh god…”

 

“Aw, kid, come here,” The soldier beckoned Steve over to the glass wall where he was sitting. Steve fell to his knees opposite him and pressed his forehead to the glass, the soldier doing the same- only a few centimetres of reinforced glass separating their skin.

 

“Don’t cry, Stevie,” The soldier’s voice was now weak, barely a whisper, “Don't be sad.”

 

"Do you remember when you broke your wrist falling off the fire escape?" Steve hummed a yes, letting the soldiers weak words wash over him, "You were trying to save a pigeon, thought it's wing was broke. So you climbed out the window with a shoe box…and slipped on the ice and fell down the stairs-”

 

“-and the pigeon flew off-”

 

The soldier smiled, “And the pigeon flew off. Your ass was lying in the cold for hours til the landlord saw you and told your ma. You were such a little disaster.”

 

Steve chuckled wetly, “I was just glad the pigeon was okay.”

 

“I got all these memories of you, Stevie. And they're warm and real and so full of love…so different from anything else I remember. And if I focus on them, I can feel it a little. I can feel the happiness that you and _him_ shared- the love.

 

“It’s so warm, Stevie, and I’ve been so cold for such a long time.”

 

In the corner the clock ticked over to two am. Twenty hours since the incident. The doctors said the soldier had twenty four.

 

“It doesn't hurt me,” the soldier whispered, his breathing weak and uneven, “Having all this warmth and these memories. Do you wanna know how it feels?”

 

Steve pushed himself as close as he could to the glass separating them, “Tell me,” he said softly, “Tell me.”

 

The soldiers eyes then went distant as he smiled, “It feels wonderful."

 

— 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr if y'all wanna say hi sergeantspooky.tumblr.com!


End file.
